Armageddon
by never-give-up-hope2
Summary: Where were you when the world ended?


**This was inspired by my mum who said that nobody will ever forget where they were when they found out about the attacks. **

**P.S. I apologise if any of the details are wrong, Wikipedia only provides so much information so I had to improvise.**

* * *

The day that the world ended, Anthony DiNozzo had been working.

He had been working for NCIS less than six months and was trying to make a good impression on his new boss. It was the only reason he would come in as early as six in the morning. Tony was not an early riser, nor an early worker, so he hoped it would be noticed how much of an effort he was making. If he was honest with himself, he was 'sucking-up' to the boss.

In those days, the TVs in the squad-room weren't on and tuned to the news all the time. People only generally turned them on if there was a big case that made the news or if they were bored. However, when a young and green Agent from polygraph ran into the squad room at around five to nine that morning, shouting, "Turn on the news!" everybody listened and complied.

It was unbelievable, what they saw. Smoke billowing from the North Tower of the twin Towers of the World Trade Centre. Immediately, people were dialling numbers on their phones; calling their family and calling people they knew who worked in the tower. Then there were people like Tony, who could do nothing but watch the carnage that was happening not too far away.

At 9:03am exactly (Tony remembered this because the time was displayed in bright red numbers at the bottom of the screen) another plane crashed into the South Tower. Tony would have called his father to see if he was alright (because he lived and worked in New York after all) but he knew for a fact that his father was in England for a 'business' trip.

Thirty-five minutes later exactly, the director came down from his office and told them that one minute ago; another plane had been flown into the Pentagon. People heard him of course, and a few moved away to phone friends or family who they knew worked there. This should have gotten more of their attention; the Pentagon was closer to home than the Twin Towers were after all, but it didn't. Except it didn't seem closer, everything seemed so far away at that moment. Surreal. That this….whatever it was- couldn't be happening.

And Tony would never forget what the Agent behind him (Agent Thomas from the Middle Eastern desks) said as they watched the mass destruction unfold.

"God. It looks like the end of the world."

**NCIS**

The day that the world ended, Timothy McGee had been at home.

It wasn't planned; really he should have been at work or at least _looking _for work. Except his mom was ill and Sarah was away at school and he was fresh out of College and it just made everything _so much harder _than it needed to be.

It was probably just after nine or maybe just before (he can never remember, all he knows is that he'd just given his mom breakfast) when he turned on the radio. Tim never listened to the radio seriously; it was usually just to provide background noise. Even on the 11th September he didn't hear the whole thing –just some panicked voices shouting over the screams of passers-by about planes and buildings and _people falling?_

He'd turned on the TV immediately; he needed to know if this was real or not. On every single channel he turned it on to there were buildings on fire and people running, screaming, crying and fire engines wailing in the background.

Without even a hesitation, he was out of the door and running to the car. He needed to get Sarah from school, he needed to! Because even though what was happening at this very moment was in New York and even though he was probably being irrational, who knew if there was going to be another attack and who knew if these people were low enough to hurt kids. And Sarah might have been a senior but she was still his baby sister. A baby sister whom he loved more than anything.

He wasn't going to let her be alone.

**NCIS**

The day that the world ended, Abigail Scuito had been stuck in traffic.

Looking back on it, she would suppose that it was maybe a good thing she had been stuck in traffic at the moment she found out, otherwise she maybe would have dropped a chemical or something in her lab and that would never, in any way, be good.

She had been so annoyed. The traffic jam had made her half an hour late to work and it didn't sit well with her. Being annoyed didn't sit well with her. Abby was annoyed as well because she had forgotten to put her tapes in her car and there was nothing worse than being stuck in traffic with nothing to even listen to.

With only the radio being her saviour, she hit it angrily to turn it on – only to find that it wasn't working. There was a hiss then a small click then nothing. Abby – in a very un-Abby way – brought her arm down onto the door and then bit back a curse word as a blazing pain made its way from her wrist to her elbow.

Leaning against the aforementioned door, she heard the radio coming from the car next to hers, which was so close that she could have leaned out of the window and touched it. Since she had nothing better to do and it looked like the traffic was going nowhere, Abby leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes.

It was only a few minutes later when she heard a terror-filled voices float into her ears. Sitting up again, Abby listened closer in an attempt to make out what the reporter was saying. There was something about _world trade centre collapse_ and _the second plane_ and _fire engines everywhere _and although Abby only heard some of the hastily reported words, but it was enough to fill in the blank holes in her mind. In fact, it was more than she probably ever wanted to know. For the first time, she truly understood the saying of _ignorance is bliss._

The man whose radio she was listening to caught her eye. "I can't believe this is happening," he said.

"Neither can I," Abby replied, far past the harried state she usually got into when a co-worker was injured. No, all that she felt was a calm and a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach that came from not knowing how anyone was ever going to be able to recover from this.

The traffic started to slowly crawl and then came to a stop except Abby didn't care.

Nothing seemed as important as before.

**NCIS**

The day that the world ended, Ziva David had been trying to make a choice.

Having just left high school at the start of summer break, a not-quite nineteen year-old Ziva was trying to decide whether or not to do her service. It should have been easy; IDF service was mandatory for all citizens, but with her father soaring in the Mossad, he had given her the option to waive her service but it would mean that she had to go into Mossad immediately.

She had been sitting in the kitchen with some Pita and Hummus for a four o'clock snack when her father had walked into the house with a purpose to his stride. This put up her defences immediately; her father was almost never home before six.

Barely three minutes later, her father called her up to his office, the one that he had disappeared into only moments before.

When she got there, there was no 'hello Ziva' or 'how are you?', there was just a, "Where is Ari, Ziva?"

"Geneva, Aba. Ari is in Geneva. Why?"

Her father busied himself with trying to turn on the TV that he kept in his office. It was a while before he asked, "I thought he was meant to be in Washington? I could have sworn I sent him to Washington."

Ziva could only shake her head. Ari was his son and he didn't even know where he was. Ziva knew, and it wasn't even her job or duty to know. Yet.

A sigh. "No, Aba. There is a meeting he must attend in Washington _next month_. He is definitely in Geneva. His handler called this morning to confirm it."

Her father finally turned on the television and tuned it to a News Channel. Ziva turned to look.

She almost wished she hadn't.

There were buildings on fire and people were screaming and running away. There were fire engines screaming past and police officers cornering off areas and evacuating people. It reminded her of bombings that she had been witness to in the West Bank. Except this was bigger.

Eventually, Ziva had to look away. It reminded her too much of her mother's death and the death of several friends and family members. But the sound was still there and there were the horrifying cries of loss, of destruction, of the terrible realization that this was not a dream.

Eventually her father spoke. "This, Ziva, this is why I do what I do. What we, as a country, do. It is to prevent these catastrophes from happening. To prevent the deaths of innocent people. It is to keep you safe." Her father then turned to her and looked her square in the eye. "Where is Tali?"

"I… I do not know, Aba. Probably at the market with her friends, she will sometimes go there after school. If not, then she is on her way home. She does not like to be out past half past four," Ziva managed to grind out.

"Go and find her, Ziva. Go and find her and bring her back home. She cannot hear this on the street! She cannot be in the streets once the whole public find out about this." He then turned away and dialled a number on his telephone. While he was waiting for the person on the other end to pick up, he said:

"Remember, all of this can and must be fought. Nobody must stand idle and let the world fall."

Ziva didn't waste another second before running out of the door and going to look for Tali. Her baby sister was out there, somewhere and what had seemed such an innocent, after-school jaunt mere minutes ago had become a death-trap.

The biggest mass killer was panic.

And Ziva always remembered her father's words:

"_Nobody must stand idle and let the world fall."_

It was then, in that moment when she was standing in the middle of the market looking for Tali, she made her decision.

**NCIS**

The day that the world ended, Dr Mallard had been on holiday.

Back in those days, Ducky would often take a holiday to his native country, always around about September. The schools would have just gone back at the end of August and most of the tourists would have dissipated. It was very calm and peaceful and it made him realise that, as much as he loved America, there would be no place quite like Scotland.

That year, he was in St. Andrews, golfing. He had just gotten back to the hotel and, shaking off his coat (which was wet due to the unfavourable weather) he turned on the kettle that came with the room so he could have some afternoon tea.

When he was out of his wet clothes and had a cup of tea in his hand, Ducky turned on the television and settled back in his chair.

All of a sudden there was a clatter and the realisation that his cup of tea had fallen on the floor. Ducky couldn't even bend to pick it up. The screen… it was just too horrible. There was so much smoke; he could barely make out the figures rushing through it in a desperate attempt to escape its clutches.

The 'Breaking News' banner was scrolling across the bottom of the screen and there was no news reporter telling the details of what had happened, there was no need to. Nobody would listen anyway. All there was were pictures of debris and wreckage. And all there was were thoughts of how could anybody have any faith in humanity after this.

How could anybody have faith in _anything? _

**NCIS**

The day that the world ended, Jimmy Palmer had been at home, sick.

He was sitting on the sofa, feeling incredibly stupid and foolish. Who catches a cold in_ September_? He was also very bored, since every time he got up to do something he would feel dizzy and promptly fall back down again.

Most of his friends were in class so that sucked big time. His family were on holiday (without him) so there wasn't even anyone to baby him (not that he wanted babied, the availability would have been nice though.)

It was mid-morning when the shrill sound of his phone ringing echoed throughout the small apartment. Jimmy awoke from his sleep with a jolt, and cursed the banging that started in his head almost immediately. He shuffled over to the other side of the sofa where the phone lay and answered it, almost wishing he hadn't when the banging in his head dialled up a notch at the really loud voice.

"Jimmy! Jimmy! Jimmy!" It turned out to be his best-friend, Robert Norton.

"Yeah, Robert?" He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Have you seen the news?" Robert's voice was high to the point of wincing. Jimmy did actually wince.

"No. No I haven't. Why?"

"Turn on the TV, Jimmy!"

"I don't have a TV, Rob!" Jimmy sighed. "What's happened?"

There was a choked – was that a sob? – on the other end of the line, "It's… it's the twin towers. They flew like… like a plane into them… or something. Oh my God, Jimmy! They're on fire! There's like…. a massive hole in each of them! Lynette was in the South Tower!"

There was the sound of someone telling people to move away, to move back and Jimmy almost had to shout into the phone to be heard. "What floor was she on? What floor did the plane hit?!"

Rustling came through on the line but eventually Rob came back on. "I… I don't know. Fiftieth? Sixtieth? No higher than seventy! She was only there for a meeting! Oh God! I can't tell what floor the planes have hit!"

Illness forgotten, Jimmy jumped off the sofa and ran to his bedroom, ransacking his drawers to find some decent clothes. "Listen to me, Rob. Where are you? Somewhere in lower Manhattan? I'm coming!"

"No, Jimmy!" Rob's voice was muffled by the rustling on the other end of the line. "No! Don't come! I'm fine!"

Jimmy stalled for a moment. "No! I'm coming whether you like it or not! Excuse me , Rob but you need someone there and I'm the only thing you've got at this second! You're fiancée will want you sane when she comes out of those towers and I know damn well you can't keep it together on your own. So I'm coming! Now tell me where you are or a place that I can meet you!"

Nobody mentioned the fact that Lynette might not come out at all.

"Okay," Rob relented. "Okay. Thanks, Jimmy. You're a great friend." And he rattled off an address for a café where Jimmy would be able to find him at.

**NCIS**

On the day that the world ended, Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been at work.

Except unlike his new agent, he was not in the squad-room when he learned of the disaster, nor was he in any other room where there were a lot of people.

Gibbs was in the empty break-room when he learned of the disaster. He had just gotten his morning coffee and wanted some place quiet to drink it before he had to deal with the rush of cases or paperwork or something to that effect.

The television was playing in the break-room (it was always tuned to ZNN) and all of a sudden there was the footage of one of the Twin Towers burning. There was a witness talking in the background who was saying that they thought it was a type of plane that flew in but they couldn't be sure.

Gibbs watched it, with an almost confused face at first. The one he wore when he didn't quite understand something. Then it was replaced by the one he wore when he was horrified at something. Yet he didn't move. Because what could he do? It wasn't another crime that he could investigate. It wasn't something he could dissect and analyse and manipulate until it made sense. Because instead of one or two victims, there would easily be thousands, and instead of looking for a murderer he could prosecute, the people who had flown the plane in were long dead.

So Instead of moving and rushing about, Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked out the window, across the nation's capital, and sighed.

* * *

**In memory of all those who were killed in the September 11 Attacks and my thoughts to all those affected by them. **

**_Gone but never forgotten_ **


End file.
